


Failure to Resist

by kaeda



Category: Kyou Kara Maou!
Genre: Crack, Drunkenness, M/M, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-06
Updated: 2006-08-06
Packaged: 2017-10-04 23:46:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/35393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaeda/pseuds/kaeda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gwendel has always had problems resisting cute things, especially while emptying the contents of his liquor cabinet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Failure to Resist

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for: m/m kissing and suggestions of sex. Suggestions of bondage but nothing graphic. Mild spoilers for episode 59 and up. Gratuitous overuse of italics.
> 
> I alternated between the use of "heika" and "His Majesty" in this fic for several reasons. I think the best one was that "heiiiiiiiiika" sounds much better whined than "Your Maaaaaaajesty". I normally dislike including Japanese in my stories despite having taken the language for so many years, but I felt this was an exception due to how much I could hear it in my head :D.

"Heiiiiiiiikaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

Gwendel slammed the door shut and quickly gulped down the rest of the whiskey in his glass. Life was getting utterly ridiculous. Even on his third glass, he still wanted to go out and muzzle Günter.

Muzzle. Günter would probably look good muzzled, perhaps blindfolded as well, with his hair spread around him…

He quickly shook that thought out of his head and poured himself another glass. There was no way he was thinking of muzzling Günter, or tying him up, or using those handy chains he kept in the basement. He wasn't thinking about blindfolds or that _hair_, either.

"Heiiiiiiikaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

He was going to kill Günter. If he didn't kill him, he would eventually end up molesting him, and that, he firmly believed, was a fate worse than death.

Suddenly someone was pounding at the door, and Gwendel glared at it angrily. If he ignored it long enough, maybe whoever was there would go away. Unless it was that damned purple-haired freak. Then he'd just…

Günter wrenched the door open and stood panting in the doorway, his usual cloak in disarray, showing an unusual amount of his figure.

Gwendel quickly poured himself another drink. "What is it, Günter?" he asked, trying to make himself sound bored and disinterested but, on reflection, only managing to sound rather stoned.

"His Majesty is _missing_, Gwendel!" Günter wailed, throwing himself at the other man and clinging desperately. His hand just missed grazing Gwendel's crotch and its owner scowled fiercely.

"Get off of me," he snapped, managing to put his glass down without spilling while still being molested by the human octopus.

Oh god, why had he just imagined handcuffs. He shook his head again and finally managed to pry Günter off of him. "Günter. His Majesty, Conrad, and Wolfram left this morning for the hot springs." _Ugh_, he thought as Günter's eyes grew huge and watery, _wrong answer_. His hand caught his glass and he quickly poured the remaining whiskey down this throat.

"Why does heika always go away without telling meeeeeeee?" Günter was wringing his hands and sobbing. "I love him and cherish him and he _runs away from me_!" The other man looked close to a breakdown, so Gwendel sighed and ran over the options in his mind, which was becoming sort of sluggish. Knit Günter a fast plushie (while intoxicated, not the best idea)…or give him some of Gwendel's own stash.

He chose option B.

He firmly sat Günter down on one of the chairs and then went over to his liquor stash. He was about to pull out the bottle of whiskey he himself had been enjoying when Günter said something other than "heiikaaaaaaaaaa" for the first time in about five minutes.

"What's that pink bottle?"

Gwendel scowled again. The Malibu had been in there since he'd spotted the cute monkeys on the label and been unable to leave Yuuri's world without buying at least one bottle, but damned if he was going to let Günter know that.

"Fruity rum," he answered. "It's completely awful." Günter was pouting again.

"Then you won't mind if I have some of it!" he reasoned.

"……" Gwendel gave him a Look.

"Gweeeeeendel," he said, "you won't even let me drink the liquor I want!" Gwendel glared at him, then poured a couple shots worth of the foul-smelling rum into a glass and shoved it at his unwanted companion. After that, he hurriedly refilled his own glass.

They drank in silence for a few moments, Gwendel trying hard not to think about paddles and chains and kittens, and Günter obviously struggling with the pain of being left behind. Again. The room was slowly becoming unfocused, and then Günter pouted again in his inner monologue and Gwendel was just _completely overwhelmed by the cute_.

Then Günter started watching _him_. And not just watching, but staring appraisingly, like he'd had a realization.

Gwendel slammed his glass down and Günter jumped. His glass of Malibu was still half full but even had it been empty, Gwendel would have known the other man wasn't nearly as tipsy as he was. Günter was still staring at him, so Gwendel felt as though he had to say _something_.

"Look," he grumbled. "I'll make you a plushie of His Majesty. Will you be happy with that?" Günter's expression turned _shiny_ and suddenly Gwendel wanted to keep it all to himself, locked up in the deepest dungeon in his castle, where nobody could see it but him. He looked away. He refused to face temptation.

Temptation had stood up.

Günter walked over to him and set his glass down on the cabinet, next to the pink bottle of Malibu complete with utterly cute monkeys. He smiled at Gwendel and the other man scowled at him again, suspicious.

Günter laid his head on Gwendel's shoulder. "Will you make my heika plushie with wings?" he asked.

Wings. Wings were cute.

Günter was cute too.

"You know, it's weird," Günter mused, and Gwendel wondered vaguely why he was talking. "You're such a stick in the mud, but I bet if someone pushed hard enough, you'd let them in."

The double entendre made Gwendel's head spin, but he shoved away those thoughts by snapping, "What about your precious heika?" He cursed his drunken lack of tact, but Günter's mouth just creased into a smile, although Gwendel couldn't see it very well without craning his neck awkwardly.

"Sometimes I notice other people besides His Majesty," Günter breathed.

Gwendel's mind was stuck at this point, and Günter's head was warm on his shoulder, and his hands were pulling at Gwendel's collar and _what was he doing?_

Günter slowly and carefully began unbuttoning Gwendel's shirt. Gwendel was going to _kill him_, or tie him up with yarn and knit the biggest damn sweater for him ever, just because cute things needed to have sweaters.

Shit, he was also obviously drunk.

"Günter!" he said in his most commanding voice. "What do you think you're doing?!"

"Ooooh," Günter said with a winning smile. "That commanding voice, Gwendel, do it again!" Gwendel's eyes widened and suddenly it was oppressively hot in the room because Günter was...asking him to…

Günter licked his neck and Gwendel quickly downed the last bit of whiskey in his glass. Günter's tongue continued to travel along the curve of Gwendel's neck until it reached his ear, where he gave it his full undivided attention, licking along it.

Gwendel was going to have no part in this sexing. He stood shakily but abruptly and Günter slipped off of him and onto the floor. He licked his lips and pouted. "Ne, Gwendel? You don't want me either?"

"Handcuffs," Gwendel muttered, but apparently louder than he'd intended to.

"Handcuffs?" and Günter had the gall to look _interested_.

Gwendel couldn't take it anymore. He grabbed a random plushie off the shelf, quickly hugged it in apology, then chucked it at Günter. While he was distracted by a flying "was that a bear? A dog?) animal, Gwendel ducked out the door and into the cooler air of the hallway. Ah, freedom. Now he wouldn't cuff Günter to his bed and fuck him senseless. Life was sensible again.

Günter came flying out the door, breathless.

"You threw a plushie at me!" he said in surprise. In his mad dash to the door, he'd forgotten his cloak, and Gwendel's mind informed him sullenly that he looked handsome in his uniform. His cheeks were flushed and contrasted nicely with the lavender of his hair.

_God_, Gwendel thought irritably, _when did I get so gay?_

"Yes!" he retorted. The genius of his reply threw Günter for a moment.

"Why did you throw a plushie at me?" he asked with another pout. Gwendel was going to suck that pout off his face in about five seconds if he didn't stop, and he cursed his own hormones.

"Günter!" he said, for lack of anything else. Günter tossed the plushie back at him "Gwendel fumbled it and it fell to the wayside) and suddenly darted towards him, slamming him to the floor and looming over him. "There is no way you're drunk," Gwendel tried to reason. His tongue felt too big for his mouth, but Günter's neck was right there and surely it could accommodate. He licked a firm line under Günter's jaw before his brain caught up, and he tried to pull away, swearing.

"I'm not drunk," Günter confirmed. "I'm _lonely_."

_Cute things shouldn't be lonely_, Gwendel thought desperately as he ran his fingers through Günter's long hair. He scratched around his ears for some reason and Günter leaned into the touches with a vague purr in the back of his throat. Cute things indeed shouldn't be lonely, and Günter was never going to be lonely again if he kept up with the purring sound. Gwendel found himself wishing Günter was a kitty cat.

"Well don't be lonely," Gwendel ordered in his best drunk, commanding tone, and he was gratified to feel Günter shiver above him. "Just because His Majesty doesn't see you doesn't mean…" but Günter was _unbuttoning his jacket_, and then he bit his ear and said sharply,

"Stop talking, Gwendel."

Gwendel flailed his arms out to the side and one of them hit soft yarn. He snatched the plushie back but before he could wield it to his best advantage and distract Günter, the other man had plucked it out of his hands and tossed it back into Gwendel's office. "You can't distract me." His breath was heavy against Gwendel's ear and Gwendel's brain was struggling to comprehend the fact that this was _Günter_ who apparently suffered from lust for _him_ as well as for Yuuri, and that he'd mislaid the cuffs somewhere. Where _were_ they?

This was ridiculous. Why was Günter molesting him? He'd been the one trying to resist the urge for weeks!

He growled deep in his throat and rolled them over swiftly, pinning Günter tightly to the floor before catching his lips, making good on his promise to suck the pout off them. Günter kissed him back hungrily, hands fisting in Gwendel's uniform, and Gwendel suddenly didn't care about _anything_ other than the gratification waiting for him the moment he could get this man into his bedroom. The alcohol running through his veins was indeed clouding his judgment, and it was worse than he'd ever thought possible.

Günter shoved at him half-heartedly as Gwendel pulled away from his mouth and returned the favor from earlier by tracing his ear. He caught the lobe in his teeth and pulled, then whispered, "one time only."

"That's fine," Günter gasped.

Gwendel tried to resist the urge to grin as he yanked Günter to his feet. "Come with me."

\------------------

On their way back from the hot springs, Yuuri, Conrad, and Wolfram passed by Gwendel's door just in time to hear a familiar voice exclaim,

"Why do you have knitted pink handcuffs?!"

"Shut up. No one understands my art."

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for my KKM-and-Naruto-watching-buddy, Lauren. She wanted Malibu, Gwendel, and Günter, and how can I say no to that? Inspired by the comment about Gwendel's liquor stash in one of the later episodes, I can't remember which one.


End file.
